In The Middle (Percy Jackson Love Story)
by prettylittlebanana
Summary: Ever since Heather Katelyn McCarter turned 12, she had been able to do extraordinary things - but she was oblivious to that. After almost getting killed by her Pre-algebra teacher, she goes out on an adventure she never wanted with a certain boy named Percy Jackson. (Percy/OC)
1. Chapter 1: I Officially Hate Algebra

Look, it's not like I had a choice; I never had one, and first of all, I didn't want to be this way. I _never_wanted to be what I am now, but unfortunately, I am.

If you think – or worse, if you _know_ you are one, stop reading this right now, believe in whatever lie that is currently happening in your life, believe in whatever your parents say and try to live a normal life or move to Mexico and change your name to Pepito – if you're a girl, change it to 'Pepita.' Once you know about this, it's only a matter of time before _they_ sense it too. Don't ask me who _'they'_ is, because if I do tell you – you might earn a one-way ticket to the mental hospital or _worse_.

I don't really know how I have time writing this. Every summer, I _always _go on quests. And no, that's not the quests you play in a game; a different kind of quest, the kind that _your _life is in jeopardy, not your characters'.

Being me – or any other people like me – is dangerously dangerous. You'll get chased by 'things' that used to be under your bed – the one that your parents always scare you so you go to sleep and stop frolicking here and there – and those 'things' might kill you in painful and nasty ways. Trust me on this; I've fought those 'things' before and it wasn't pretty.

And if you're still reading this after I said those things, you'll know what those 'things' are because you've got spunk. And like I said, they'll sense that you know. The less you know, the fewer you attract. But the more you know… let's just say you'll be regretting that. But It's not like you listened to me, did you? Now, after all of those so many cons are the perks; like sword-fighting, archery or a game of capture the flag..._food_... etc.

If you're a normal person who actually thinks this is fiction, good. Keep on reading. Go on, I don't bite. Vampires do… or the 'things' I told you about. Now laugh at my joke or else, I'm going to kill you. I was joking on that one, okay? Now, let me tell you about myself.

My name is Heather Katelyn McCarter.

In this story – yes the one you're reading right now – I am currently 12 years old. I'm a boarding student at Yancy Academy (for _now_), a private school for troubled kids in upstate New York. And yes, I am a troubled kid, no; you don't have to rub it in my face. I already know I am.

I have a curly brunette hair, which is weird because even though I use an iron curler, it always ends up curly. Not too much, not too less. Just curly. Weird, huh? Well, that's not the weirdest thing you will ever hear from me. My life is pretty… extraordinary, unlike your normal life. But if the people I warned are still reading this, it's your choice not mine. Once you know, you'll probably hate your life. I hate mine, what makes yours so different?

I have dyslexia, which makes it very hard for me to read. It takes me weeks to read a book. I try. It's always hard because words will fly out the book or the things you're reading, but I still try. I love reading and I love learning. If you don't, I'm judging you. Learning's fun and useful, okay?

I also have ADHD, which is useful, when someone's punishing or scolding me – which happen _every-damn-day_.

I have a dad, who has been busy with his business projects ever since I turned 9. His name is Michael John McCarter. He said my mom left us; he didn't say when, he didn't say how, he just said she left, which was very fishy. And considering I'm smelling rotten fish while I'm writing this is very fishy as well.

I have a step-sister whose name is Belle. She's 18. Her mom filed a divorce with my dad after a disagreement. Belle was 10 months old when her mom left.

My life is miserable, like really miserable. I'm not even kidding.

When I was in 3rd grade, a classmate of mine purposely bumped me, or should I say pushed me. We were on the bus when it happened and I bumped against the clutch—which made the bus move forward. Let's just say it did not end that well.

In 4th grade we went to a fair. It was fun, really. But when some kids were riding the roller coaster, I accidentally pushed a certain button. So technically, the kids there took an unplanned ride – which by the way, got me in _so_ much trouble.

In 5th grade, I was daydreaming about baseball; I was swinging my hardbound book around. A girl can dream, right? So, continuing what I said, I accidentally hit my headmaster on the face, causing me to get expelled.

One of the _only _perks in my life is that I had at least one friend who was normal and her name is Anna. She has a waist length brown hair, blue eyes and heart-shaped lips. Her dad is a businessman while her mom is an architect who's always busy.

We have a lot in common, such as, loving color purple and we both love McDonalds (who doesn't?), one of the reason why she's my best friend. We can relate to stuff such as having a dad who's always out on business trips, not having time for their own daughters. Although the creepy thing is, my dad wanted to 'spend more time' with me, which is pretty weird if you ask me.

Everything here started going really bad for me last May, when our sixth-grade class took a field trip to the museum in Manhattan. There were about twenty-eight mental-case kids and two teachers on a yellow school bus, heading to the Metropolitan Museum of Art to look at ancient Greek and Roman stuff.

I find it interesting. It's the class where I always get an A+ while I always get B+ or C+ on the others, which I'm very disappointed at. I know I study well and hard enough, I always get A's or B+'s on tests but ever since Mrs. Dodds came here, it's like she brainwashed the teachers to turn against me. Mr. Brunner, our Latin teacher, was leading the trip. He wasn't brainwashed, at least, he doesn't look like he is. And I always get good grades in his class which is good. So, I hoped that this will end well.

Mr. Brunner was this middle-aged guy in a motorized wheelchair. He had thinning hair and a scruffy beard and frayed tweed jacket, which always smelled like coffee. I hate the smell of coffee, but that didn't change the fact that he was my favorite. He wasn't like the other teachers that glare at me whenever they see me. He was always telling us stories, jokes and he lets us play games in class. He also had this collection of Roman armors and weapons which made it even more fun _and _historical.

There's another reason why I was – still am – miserable. Nancy Bobofit, the freckly redhead kleptomaniac girl, who's always hitting Grover Underwood, Percy Jackson's best friend, in the back of the head with chunks of peanut butter-and-ketchup sandwich. She used to make fun of me, but something happened.

Okay, so, Anna and I were playing dare or dare. There wasn't really much of a choice. You'll just do dares, that's it. The worst part was when she dared me to do a joke on Nancy. The joke? 'Got your nose.' I was disgusted, but if I don't do it, I'll give her 10 dollars, which was a no-no to me.

Coincidentally, Nancy walked in front of us. I jumped in front of her and took a hold of her nose, much to my dismay. Then I took my hand back and yelled, 'GOT YOUR NOSE!' The odd thing was, when I looked at her face, her nose was gone; completely and utterly gone.

I looked at the hand where I took a hold of her nose and saw it there. I was definitely shocked. I gaped at her as she screamed. So I did the only option I had; I slapped my hand on where her nose was supposed to be and gripped on Anna's arm – who was too busy looking through her phone – and ran as far as my legs took me until Nancy's screams were inaudible. I basically dragged Anna around, her complaining here and there.

Okay, back to explaining Grover. You see; Grover Underwood was an easy target, much to his dismay. He was scrawny. He must have been held back several grades, because he was the only sixth grader with acne and has a wispy beard on his chin. Worst of all, he was crippled. He's excused in P.E. for the rest of his life. I felt bad for him. I really did.

Now that all those chit-chat is over, let's get to the _actual_point, shall we?

Nancy Bobofit, who was throwing wads of sandwich at Grover, was sitting next to me because Mrs. Dodds assigned me too, which was so unfair because all the other kids got to sit with their friends, what makes me so different?

Mrs. Dodds was this little math teacher from Georgia who always wore a black leather jacket, even though she was fifty years old. I don't know if she is, so give or take a few years. Anna and I always mock her behind her back – mainly because she likes Nancy and _hates _me. I know it should be the other way around, but you can't change a person's personality unless they want to change it themselves, right?

She looks so scary, in my opinion. I mean, whenever she looks at me glares at me, it's like she's going to kill me, but is still waiting for the right moment. If looks could kill, I would have been dead by now. She had come to Yancy halfway through the year, when our last math teacher had a nervous breakdown.

"...okay. I like peanut butter." I heard Grover say as Nancy threw another wad of sandwich at him. I really, _really _felt bad for him. I wanted to smack Nancy's face, but I'm already on probation – because of the juice incident. And you should have seen the look Mrs. Dodds threw me when she assigned me to sit next to Nancy. She looked like she was about to kill me.

You see, last month, I poured my juice on Nancy but just my luck, Mrs. Dodds saw. I don't know what she was doing at the cafeteria; there's something called a _teacher's lounge_ for crying out loud! It was like she wanted to _watch _me. One time, she had made me erase out of old math workbooks until midnight. The good thing was; I wasn't alone. Percy Jackson was with me. That's how I met him, but we're not close. We're more of a 'more than an acquaintance, less than a friend.'

"You're already on probation." Grover reminded. So Percy was on probation too. "You know who'll get blamed if anything happens."

Mr. Brunner led the museum tour.

He rode up in front in his wheelchair, guiding through the big galleries, past marble statues and glass cases full of really old black-and-orange pottery. He gathered us around a thirteen-foot-tall stone column with a big sphinx on the top and started telling us how it was a grave marker, a stele, for a girl about our age. I didn't listen that much because I was staring at a certain statue; Zeus. I always hated Zeus. Bad vibes, I guess?

"Will you shut up?" Percy snapped at Nancy; all eyes on him. Everyone laughed at him.

"Mr. Jackson," Mr. Brunner called, his attention focusing on Percy. "Did you have a comment?" Percy's face turned red and looked at the ground.

"No, sir." he muttered, still looking at the ground. Mr. Brunner pointed to one of the picture on the stele.

"Perhaps you'll tell us what this picture represents." Mr. Brunner ordered, still pointing at one of the pictures on the stele.

"That's Kronos eating his kids, right?" Percy answered, clearly unsure.

"Yes," Mr. Brunner responded, but he wasn't satisfied by Percy's answer. "And he did this because?"

"Well... Kronos was the king god, and –" Percy started to say while I shook my head slightly, as if telling him he was wrong. Kronos was a Titan, not a god.

"God?" Mr. Brunner interrupted, raising an eyebrow.

"Titan," Percy quickly corrected. "And... he didn't trust his kids who were gods. So, um, Kronos ate them, right? But his wife hid baby Zeus, and gave Kronos a rock to eat instead. And later, when Zeus grew up, he tricked his dad, Kronos, into barfing up his brothers and sisters –"

"Eeew!" the girl beside me screeched. I rolled my eyes.

"Oh shut it, will you?" I hissed as I rolled my eyes. The girl rolled her eyes and simply ignored me as she started socializing with her friends. Oh just my luck, Mrs. Dodds saw me and threw me a glare, and I bet Mr. Brunner heard it too.

Percy was about to continue when Mr. Brunner put a hand in front of his face dismissingly, telling him to stop.

"Please continue, Ms. McCarter." Mr. Brunner motioned while Nancy and her friends snickered. I glared at them and they quickly stopped, whistling like they didn't do anything wrong. Anna looked at me, her eyes were saying, 'you can do it,' and nodded encouragingly at me as I gulped quietly.

"Where exactly did Percy stop, sir?" I asked the man in the wheelchair in front of me politely; add a polite smile there too. Viola, here goes innocent me.

"The event after Kronos vomited his children." Mr. Brunner answered, and nodded at me to continue what Percy was explaining.

"There was a big fight between the gods and the Titans, and the gods won." I continued as he nodded, but he still wasn't satisfied.

"Like we're going to use this in real life, like it's going to say on our job applications, 'Please explain why Kronos ate his kids.'" Nancy Bobofit commented quietly, rolling her eyes as her gang snickered.

"And why Mr. Jackson," Mr. Brunner turned to Percy, who was surprisingly standing right next to me. "To paraphrase Ms. Bobofit's excellent question, does this matter in real life?"

"Busted," Grover muttered, clearly happy that Nancy got busted by a teacher for the first time as I smirked. Nancy turned red like her hair and cringed.

"I don't know, sir." Percy answered honestly. I was pretty nervous he was going to ask me next. I _hope _not. But really, luck wasn't on my side today. It _never _was. A girl can only dream, right?

"Ms. McCarter?" Mr. Brunner turned to me, a hopeful expression was written on his face – which I know would turn to disappointment once I share my answer.

"I-I don't know, sir." I stuttered. I really didn't know. I mean, I love Greek mythology and all, but it's not like there's a job where you will tell the Greek history – well, there is, but it's not like I'm going to apply for it anyway. I would rather be a doctor – or maybe even a lawyer. Definitely not a historian or teacher.

"That's a first." Nancy mumbled to her friends, who, in return, snickered. I glared at them, causing them to stop.

"I see..." And I was right, his hopeful expression turned into disappointment, making me feel guilty. "Well, credits to Mr. Jackson and half credit to Ms. McCarter. Zeus did indeed feed Kronos a mixture of mustard and wine, which made him disgorge his other five children, who, of course, being an immortal gods, had been living and growing up, completely undigested in the Titan's stomach. The gods defeated their father, sliced him to pieces with his own scythe, and scattered his remains in Tartarus, the darkest part of the Underworld. On that happy note, it's time for lunch. Mrs. Dodds, would you lead us back outside?" he explained with a smile.

"That was..." Anna trailed off as soon as she was right next to me, about to exit the museum and head to where the others were.

"Tell me about it." I murmured, looking at the marbled floor.

"Unusual," she continued. "Why would he ask something like that? I mean, seriou –" She was about to rant, but she got cut off by Mr. Brunner.

"Mr. Jackson, Ms. McCarter." Mr. Brunner called as I looked at Anna with a worried look on my face. She nodded and looked at me encouragingly, as she continued to exit the museum.

I was worried;_ worried_ that he'll tell me to do better, _worried_ that he'll scold me for not trying my best, but most of all, _worried_that he might give me a low grade. My eyes widened as I thought of that. He's not going to do that right? No, no. Stop listening to your paranoid mind Heather. Think positive. But thinking positive makes everything worse, so I'm just going to wing it. Nothing wrong, right?

"Sir?" I squeaked, still panicking about the lowering of my grade.

"Both of you must learn to answer my question." Mr. Brunner declared as soon as everyone filed out the museum.

"About the Titans?" Percy asked, looking at Mr. Brunner questioningly.

"About real life and how your studies apply to it." he answered, looking at us expectantly as he said those words. "What you learn from me is vitally important and I expect you to treat as such. I will accept only the best from the both of you, Percy Jackson, Heather McCarter."

I suddenly became fascinated on the marbled floor beneath my feet. I _knew_ it… I should have tried harder. Why did I not know the answer to that question? I wanted to get angry so much. I already _am _angry _and _disappointed that my all-time favorite teacher just told me how he expected the best of me.

Sure, he's cool on tournament days, when he dressed up in a suit of Roman armor and shouted: "What ho!", and challenged us, sword-point against chalk, to run to the board and name every Greek and Roman person who ever lived, and their mother, and what god they worshiped. Well, you get the point.

I heard Percy mumble something about trying harder, while Mr. Brunner took one long sad look at the stele, like he had been at the girl's funeral. After a few moments he told us to go outside and eat our lunch.

The class gathered on the front steps of the museum, where we could watch the foot traffic along Fifth Avenue. The clouds were black, like there's gonna be a storm. You see, ever since Christmas, the weather all across New York had been pretty weird. We've had massive snow storms, flooding, and wildfires from lightning strikes. See? But nobody else seemed to notice. Pretty weird, I tell you.

My friend, Anna, and I decided to sit on the edge of the fountain; away from everyone else so we can be in our 'own little world;' as in, talking about books or how every teacher turned against me, how our parents are busy; about everything – but mostly because the class was so noisy.

Nancy Bobofit was trying to pickpocket a lady's purse, and being a teacher's pet, Mrs. Dodds was acting like she's not seeing a thing. While the boys – excluding Percy and Grover who is sitting 4 meters away from us – were kicking a bottle; kind of like pretending it was a soccer ball.

"Got in trouble?" Anna asked, just as I took out my peanut butter and jelly sandwich, made by moi.

"Nope," I shook my head. "Not really. He just lectured us about trying harder and how his lessons are important and stuff." I shrugged but I couldn't help but roll my eyes.

"Oh. Well, let's not talk about that. How about we talk about summer?" she suggested with a small smile, munching on her apple as I nodded.

"What about it?"

"Like, what are you going to do?"

"Hm... I haven't thought about that yet. I think my dad will force me to move to a new school," I shrugged. "What about you?"

"Probably moving too," She sighed with a sad look on her face. "We're still gonna see each other someday and keep contact, right?" She questioned.

"Sure. And hey, turn that frown upside down." I grinned and grabbed my sandwich. "So, you still up for Saturday?" I asked. We were supposed to have a movie marathon on Saturday, and I was obviously excited.

"Wouldn't miss it for the world." she responded, grinning from ear to ear as I unwrapped the plastic. I was about to eat it when I saw Nancy dump her lunch on Grover.

"Oops." Nancy grinned with her crooked teeth. Her freckles were orange, as if somebody spray-painted it. I glanced at Percy, only to see him look down while he's clenching his fist. I glared at her. The weird thing was; while I was continuing the glare I gave her, her hair looked like it was on fire. And the proven fact was; I wasn't wrong. Why? She screamed and started running around. I _had _to contain my laugh.

Everything went by so fast, because one moment, Nancy was running around because her red hair was on fire, and then as a few seconds passed, she's sitting in the fountain, screaming, "Percy and Heather pushed me!"

I blinked and raised an eyebrow. Pushed her? Last time I checked, I was simply unwrapping my sandwich, was giving her a death glare _and _was containing my laugh.

I looked at Percy and his eyes met mine. I sent him a questioning look but he just shot me a questioning look in return, causing me to be even _more _confused.

"Did you see the water—"

"—the water—"

"—like it grabbed her—"

"—Nancy's hair—"

"—her hair—"

"—was on fire—"

As soon as Mrs. Dodds was sure poor little teacher's pet was okay, promising to get her a new shirt at the museum gift shop she turned to Percy and I, sending us a death glare. Let me re-phrase that, a glare that might vaporize you into ashes and it was like she was trying not to smirk, a smirk like she's been waiting for this to happen.

"Now, honeys –" Mrs. Dodds started to say, but she got cut off by Percy's grumble.

"I know," Percy grumbled. "A month erasing workbooks." Not the right thing to say, Percy. Not the right thing to say.

"Come with me." she continued and sent Percy a death glare.

"Wait!" Grover yelped, standing up. "It was me. _I _was the one who pushed her."

"I don't think so, Mr. Underwoo –"

"But they didn't do anythi—" Anna cut her off and started to defend us, but Mrs. Dodds cut her off in return.

"That's enough! Both. Of. You. _Will_. Stay. Here." she demanded, emphasizing each word. Anna shot me a concerned loo but I just nodded at her reassuringly and shot her a small smile. But it wasn't reassuring enough.

"Honeys," Mrs. Dodds barked at us. "_Now_."

Nancy smirked, as if she was mocking me. I gave her my famous I-hope-you-rot-in-underworld-someday glare and turned to follow Mrs. Dodds, but she wasn't there. She was standing at the museum entrance, gesturing impatiently at us to come on. For an old lady, she's fast. Must be my ADHD kicking in. Huh, _weird._

We went after her, but Percy stopped. I stopped too. I'm not going alone with that old hag. No damn way. He glanced outside, and my eyes flickered to what he was looking at. He was looking at Grover, looking pale, cutting his eyes between me, Percy and Mr. Brunner, like he wanted him to notice but Mr. Brunner was so absorbed reading his novel.

"Let's go. The old hag might get us in more trouble." I said, catching his attention. He nodded. And as we looked back up, Mrs. Dodds had mysteriously appeared inside the building, at the end of the entrance hall. This is getting creepier and creepier by the second. I grabbed Percy's arm and squeezed it, the thing I do when I get scared.

We followed her deeper in the museum – me, wincing quietly every minute. When we finally caught up to her, we were back in the Greek and Roman section. The gallery was empty. This is getting creepier than ever. I squeezed Percy's arm harder – not caring if it's hurting him. I needed comfort; as in, now.

Mrs. Dodds stood in front of us with her arms crossed. She was making a weird noise, kind of like growling. She looked at the marble frieze of the Greek gods, as if she wanted to pulverize it...

"You've been giving us problems, honeys." she said.

"Yes, ma'am." Percy agreed, but in reality, he was completely unsure of what she was saying. I guess he thought it was the safest thing to do. She tugged on the cuffs of her leather jacket.

"Did you really think you would get away with it?" she questioned as she gave us an evil look. _'She's going to kill us_' my paranoid brain thought. Oh, come on. She's a teacher, right? It's not like she's going to hurt us, right? Oh boy was I wrong.

"We'll–we'll try harder ma'am." Percy stammered as I squeezed his arm tighter while thunder shook the building.

"We are not fools, Perseus Jackson, Heather McCarter," she said. "It was only a matter of time before we found both of you out. Confess, and both of you will suffer less pain." Butterflies were violently attacking my stomach as she said those words."Well?" She demanded.

"Ma'am, I don't–we don't–"

"Your time is up." she hissed as her eyes began to glow like barbecue coals. Her fingers stretched, turning into talons. Her jacket melted into large, leathery wings. She wasn't human like everyone thought. I knew there was a monster under all those skin! Now, Anna needs to pay me 12 dollars.

"I won the bet!" I cheered as I danced around, Percy looking at me like I was crazy but it soon turned into disbelief. Mrs. Dodds glared at me and growled once more.

"Is that all you can think about now!?" Percy shrieked, gesturing the supposedly Mrs. Dodds who turned into a monster.

"Sorry," I smiled sheepishly, scratching the back of my head, feeling heat rise up to my cheeks. "Now, onto serious business." Percy rolled his eyes but went along with it. There are times when I suddenly outburst something. I know I shouldn't because of how intense the atmosphere is, but I still do.

As I was saying a while ago, she was a creepy monster hag with bat wings, claws and a mouth full of yellow fangs. Things got even creepier. Mr. Brunner, who had been out reading his novel before, wheeled his chair into the doorway of the gallery, holding a pen in his hand.

"What ho, Percy!" he shouted and tossed a pen in the air. His eyes flickered to me and nodded reassuringly, causing me to be even more confused than I was before. I looked at him, expecting something more, but I didn't have time. The pen that was tossed to Percy turned into a sword as soon as he caught it, the cap of the pen was accidentally removed.

Mrs. Dodds lunged at us. Percy was frozen in his place. _'Go in front of him.'_ A woman's voice whispered in my head. I didn't question it and I instinctively followed. _'Cross your arms in front of you.'_ I followed. I know it was a crazy thing to do, but I didn't have time to do anything. And something told to just shut up, not question what's inside my head and trust it.

"What are you doing!?" Percy questioned, but I simply ignored him, preparing for the hit.

"Die, honeys!" she snarled and flew straight at us, but strangely enough, she didn't get through. She started hitting, punching and pounding the air, but it was like there was an invisible barrier that was keeping her from us. She flew back, I think she was going to try and charge straight up to us. That is until I devised an amazing plan.

"Percy, I have a plan." I announced, still in front of him, looking at Mrs. Dodds, who was growling; readying herself to charge.

"What plan?" I heard Percy ask behind me.

"Swing your sword once Mrs. Dodds is near," I instructed. He was about to say something, but I cut him off. "I will move away, so you won't slice my head okay?" I looked at him, smiling reassuringly as he was blushing bright red.

And just as I finished saying those words, Mrs. Dodds lunged at us again. I furrowed my eyebrows as I looked at Percy. He nodded at me as a reply while I nodded back. Just as Mrs. Dodds was three meters away, I jumped to my left as Percy swung his sword. The metal blade hit her shoulder and passed clean through her body as if she was made of water.

Mrs. Dodds was a sand castle in a power fan. She exploded into yellow powder, vaporized on the spot, leaving nothing but the smell of sulfur and a dying screech and a chill of evil in the air, as if those two glowing red eyes were still glaring at us.

"Did that just happen?" I questioned him, pointing where Mrs. Dodds was before.

"I-I don't know..." he stuttered, looking down.

"Le-Let's just get out of here." I stated, grabbing his arm and dragged him through the halls.

"Um, Heather," Percy called. I looked at him; he was gesturing my hand that was dragging him. I quickly let go, feeling heat rise up to my cheeks.

"I-um, I'm so sorry. Force of habit." I said with a shy smile as he nodded with a smile. There was a tint of pink on his face, but I think I was just hallucinating after all those Mrs. Dodds nonsense.

"It's okay." he assured, smiling reassuringly as we continued to walk.

"I hope Mrs. Kerr whipped your butts." Nancy said with a smug grin as soon as we got out the museum.

"Who's Mrs. Kerr?" Percy asked her, voicing my thoughts.

"Our teacher, duh!" she answered in a matter-of-fact way. I know nothing about Mrs. Kerr, nor know about her. Why do bad things happen to good people?

"Who?" It was my turn to ask but she just rolled her eyes and turned away, continuing her conversation with one of her friends.

We went over to Mr. Brunner; who was sitting under his red umbrella, reading his book, as if he never moved. He looked up, a little distracted and a bit dazed, raising an eyebrow.

"Ah, that would be my pen. Please bring your own utensil in the future, Mr. Jackson." Mr. Brunner said, holding his hand out for Percy to give the pen back. Percy handed him the pen. "What brings you here Ms. McCarter?"

Just as I was about to open my mouth, Percy asked what I was about to ask. "Sir, where's Mrs. Dodds?" He just stared at us blankly and picked up his novel from his lap, skimming through the pages.

"Who?"

"The other chaperon; Mrs. Dodds. The pre-algebra teacher?" I asked, raising an eyebrow but he just frowned and sat forward, looking concerned.

"There is no Mrs. Dodds on this trip. As far as I know, there has never been a Mrs. Dodds at Yancy Academy. Are you feeling alright, Percy, Heather?"


	2. Chapter 2: Big Socks Made Grover Nervous

_Chapter Two: Big Socks Made Grover Nervous._

**{{Heather's P.O.V.}}**

The crazy weather continued, though. One night, a thunderstorm blew out the windows in someone's dorm and it was like a tornado came in my room. _You hear me?_ Once I woke up, my dorm was so messy. The only thing not messed up was me and my bed. All my school supplies that were on my study table was tattered, I found my bag outside the window, hanging loosely on one of the branches, the door of my cabinet was broken and thankfully, all my clothes were in tip-top shape – meaning, all of my clothes were okay. The only weird thing is, the messed up part of my and Anna's dorm was only my side.

A few days later, the biggest tornado ever spotted in the Hudson Valley touched down only 50 miles away from Yancy Academy. One of the current events we studied in social studies class was the unusual number of small planes that had gone down in sudden squalls in the Atlantic that year.

Nothing much has changed, Nancy Bobofit and her posies were still irritating, my grades are still average or high, and those 'hatred' that the teachers had for me suddenly vanished ever since the incident; but for Mr. Nicoll, our English teacher, hasn't.

Well... Let me tell you an awesome story here. Mr. Nicoll asked Percy why he was lazy, so Percy called him an old sot. I don't think it was a good enough insult, mostly because it meant 'habitual drunkard.' Mr. Nicoll was fuming, so technically, I defended Percy. I called Mr. Nicoll an 'abominable twat' and got sent to the headmaster's office because of using '_inappropriate words_.'

Hey, don't go all lovey dovey there, because I defended him because of a good reason. He was the only one who remembers Mrs. Dodds, who witnessed what happened alongside me. Plus, it's my way of saying 'sorry' because, after the incident, I blew him off; ignored him even if he tried to make conversation with me. Afterwards, I felt guilty, of course.

I only ignored him because I wanted to forget that Mrs. Dodds existed. I wanted to live a normal life. I didn't want to remember how we almost got killed by our pre-algebra teacher. But things with the word 'normal' don't really work out for me.

And of course, you wouldn't believe what happened next. The headmaster sent my dad a letter saying I would not be invited next year to Yancy Academy. Not like I'm going to attend here next year, anyway, headmaster and Mr. Nicoll, I hope you rot in Underworld. If it existed though, I'm sure those two incisive things that rhymes with _witches_ will fit in perfectly.

Well, I'm mean. Mess with me; I'll mess with you, in a not-so violent way. I'm more of an exchange of foul invective words or comebacks kind of girl. But sometimes, violence works too.

However, I don't want to go back home. Sure, I'll be with my dad, in a big mansion, all alone... Actually, my step-sister and Marylin (you'll know more about Marylin later) are there so, I'm not technically alone. It was a proven fact that I hated going home, mainly because I'm always alone with nothing to do – well except... yeah, nothing at all, but that's besides the point.

I'll miss Anna so much. She was the only one who was there for me when I needed a shoulder to cry on. And she believed everything I told her. But I think she thinks I'm crazy now, but that's not really relevant for me. And surprisingly, I'm going to miss Mr. Brunner too.

Exams are near. I tried to study Algebra for the first time, but the equations are always flying out like they're drunk. English is a _big_ no-no. So far, the only subject I studied for was Latin. I needed to show Mr. Brunner that I did try my best. But sometimes, I still think my best isn't good enough. Oh well, I still try.

After hours of ranting, deciding who I'll miss most of all and complaining how dyslexia is a noob while staring at the ceiling, my eyelids started to feel heavy and then, with a snap of my fingers, I fell asleep.

**{{Percy's P.O.V.}}**

As exam week got closer, Latin was the only test I studied for. I hadn't forgotten what Mr. Brunner had told me about this subject being life-and-death for me. I wasn't sure why, but I started to believe him.

I threw the book: _Cambridge Guide to Greek Mythology_ across my dorm room. There was no way I was going to remember the difference between Charon and Chiron or Polydictes and Polydeuces. And conjugating those Latin verbs? Forget it. It's so hard to read, nonetheless memorize, because I'm dyslexic. It might even take me weeks to memorize this, even a month. I'd rather procrastinate than do this, because I know I'm hopeless when it comes to these things.

Sighing, I laid on my bed, staring at the ceiling. Then I thought of something. I kind of imagined a light bulb will pop up above my head like in those cartoons, somethimes I really do wish I wasn't living in real life. Back to the idea; can ask Heather about it. I mean, she is the top of the class; in Latin anyway. She might be asleep right now, considering it's late though. I frowned at that thought as I heaved a sigh.

Why has she been trying to avoid me though? Ever since the incident, she's been acting like Mrs. Dodds never existed. Like everything we witnessed never happened. Like _I _never existed.

I tried to talk to her the day after the incident – you know, the one with Mrs. Dodds turning into a bat monster thing – but she just turned away; her curly brunette hair, waving as she did so.

You would think of her as a Latina girl, but her pale skin ruined it. Her beautiful chocolate brown eyes – wait, what am I thinking? I sighed as I shook my head. Maybe it was because of that gold dust. Yeah! Maybe it messed with my head. Yeah, that works. And maybe that happened to her too, kinda. I don't really know what I'm talking about. I mostly procrastinate because of my ADHD. But then, what Mr. Brunner said about Heather and I echoed inside my head.

Mr. Brunner's words. The words that made me think that I wasn't trying my best. That I was stupid. _'I will accept only the best from the both of you, Percy Jackson, Heather McCarter._' It disappointed me that he's disappointed in me. I'm not really sure if that made sense, but it'll work.

I understand why he wanted Heather to try her best. She's the top of the class, why wouldn't he expect so much from her? But I don't understand why he wanted me to try my best. Well, I am one of his best students. And– Ugh, Percy, what are you thinking? What I'm doing right now is seriously making me have a headache. I think my mind will explode any minute from now, but that didn't matter at the moment.

Sighing, I stood up and picked up my mythology book. I have never, ever, asked a teacher for help before. Maybe Mr. Brunner can at least give me some pointers. And at least apologize for the_ big, fat_ **F** I was about to score in his test. I don't want to leave this school with him thinking I didn't try hard enough; that I didn't do my best. I want him to remember that _I'm the boy who did his best._

I walked downstairs to the faculty offices. Most All of them were closed; dark and empty, but Mr. Brunner's door was ajar, light from his window stretching across the dark hallway floor.

I was three steps away, three steps, I tell you. But I heard voices inside the office. Mr. Brunner asked a question - a question that I couldn't quite hear. Then I heard Grover's voice, causing me to come into an abrupt stop. Grover's voice?

"... worried about Heather, sir; _especially_ Percy."

Not really a fan of eavesdropping here, but I dare you to try not listening if you hear your own best friend talking about you and another student to a teacher. Hm? Yeah, _I didn't think so either._

"... alone this summer," I heard Grover say. "I mean, a Kindly One in the school! Now that we know for sure, and they know too –"

"We would only make matters worse by rushing them," I heard Mr. Brunner reply. "We need them to mature."

"But they may not have time. The summer solstice deadline –" Grover argued but got cut off by Mr. Brunner.

"Will have to be resolved without them, Grover. Let them enjoy their ignorance while they still can."

"Sir, _he_ saw _her, she_ saw _her_, _they_ –"

"I get it, Grover. They'll think it's just their imagination," Mr. Brunner insisted. "The Mist over the students and staff will be enough to convince them that."

"Sir, I... I can't fail my duties again." Grover choked, like he was going to cry. "You know what that would mean."

"You haven't failed, Grover," Mr. Brunner comforted. "I should have seen her for what she was. Now let's just worry about keeping Percy and Heather alive until next fall –"

My eyes widen. I was shocked. So shocked, I dropped my mythology book and hit the floor with a _thud_, and the worst thing is, it echoed. Mr. Brunner went silent. _Think, Percy, think!_ I picked up the book carefully; my heart pounding like a guy who's being chased by a dog as I backed down the hall.

A shadow slid across the lightened glass of Brunner's office door, the shadow was tall; taller than Grover and much taller than my wheelchair-bound teacher, holding something that looked like suspiciously like an archer's bow. I opened the nearest door and slipped inside.

A few seconds later, I heard a slow clop-clop-clop, like muffled... wood blocks? And then a sound of an animal snuffling right outside my door. I squeezed my eyes shut as a bead of sweat trickled down my neck.

"Nothing," Mr. Brunner murmured. "My nerves haven't been right since the winter solstice."

"Mine neither... But I could have _sworn_..."

"Go back to the dorm," Mr. Brunner told him. "You've got a long day of exams tomorrow."

"_Don't_ remind me." Grover groaned. The lights went out in Mr. Brunner's office. I waited in the dark for what seemed like forever.

Finally seeing the lights in Mr. Brunner's office flicker off, I slipped into the hallway and made my way back up to the dorm. Grover was lying on his bed, studying like he's been here all night.

"Hey," he greeted, bleary-eyed. "Are you going to be ready for this test?" I just stayed quiet, not sure what to say after hearing what Mr. Brunner said about keeping me and Heather alive until next fall. "You look awful." he stated, frowning as he observed me. "Is everything okay?"

"Just... tired." I lied as I turned away from him and started getting ready for bed. I didn't understand what I had heard downstairs. But one thing was clear: Grover and Mr. Brunner were talking about Heather and me behind our backs.

_They thought Heather, especially me, were in danger._

**{{Heather's P.O.V.}}**

_Number 30: What is a centaur?_ But to me it spelled like:_ Rebnum 03: Tahw si a rautnec?_ Huh. This is an easy question. _A centaur is a member of a composite race of creatures, part human and part horse._ I smiled at my finished work. I know I misspelled a few things – okay a lot, it's not really my fault I have dyslexia – but I do know I did my best.

I stood up, Percy standing up at the same time as me. I could hear Nancy Stupidfit, yes, I said _Stupidfit_ (Not really a good insult, so please keep reading.) say, "Oh look, the love birds. Oh, the _coincidence_."

Half of the class snickered as I rolled my eyes. The only positive thing about me leaving Yancy Academy – possibly forever – is that I won't see her stupid, spray-painted, face, ever again. I placed my test paper on Mr. Brunner's hardwood desk, and just as I was about to exit the classroom, Mr. Brunner called Percy and I back.

"Percy, Heather," he called, making me turn around but he hesitated to continue. "Don't be discouraged to leave Yancy. It's... it's for the best."

His tone was kind and sincere, but it irked me – embarrassed me too. If it was from another teacher, I wouldn't care, but coming from Mr. Brunner – who's like a second father to me, who I thought I would surely miss, who was my favorite teacher – it hurt me. And, even if he was speaking quietly, the other kids finishing the test could hear it. Every word he just said. Heck, Nancy smirked and even made sarcastic little kissing motions with her lips.

"Okay, sir." Percy mumbled. I could hear the sadness in his voice. Of course, why wouldn't you feel that way, if that was you? I mean, his favorite teacher is telling him it's for the best to leave Yancy. _My_ favorite. The one who told me I was one of his favorites too.

"I mean..." Mr. Brunner wheeled his chair back and forth, as if he wasn't sure what to say next. "This isn't the right place for the both of you. It was only a matter of time."

My chest ached. It's like he's telling me I'm not trying my best. Like I was destined to get kicked out. He said he 'believed' in me. He said I was 'one of his favorite students.' Well, if he did and if I was, why was he saying this?

"O-oh..." I choked - the tears ready to perform waterworks.

"No, no," he comforted. Well, tried, at least. "Oh confound it all. What I'm trying to say is... you're not normal –"

I've been called a _freak, useless, troublesome_ and even that '_not normal_' bit. I've been used to it... a little bit, but coming from Mr. Brunner, it stung... a lot. He was my favorite, like I said for the billionth time. He was like a second father, better than my own father, to be quite honest.

With that, I ran out of the classroom, the steps I took echoing on the deserted hallway. I'm actually glad I'm leaving. If I don't, I'm sure kids would mock me, 'Oh look, it's the girl who's not normal.' No, I don't want that. I've been suffering from that since 1st grade.

"HEATHER!" Someone yelled as they ran. I stopped my tracks, quickly wiping the tears that were trickling down my face and turned around.

"Wh– oh, it's you." It came out harsher than I was going for. I quickly wiped some of my tears that were still trickling on my cheeks with my hands and quickly regained my posture, remembering that I was rude to him. "Oh, I mean– hey, Percy!" I greeted as I forced a smile. He smiled.

"You okay?" _Oh yes, I'm okay. You have no idea how okay I am. _

"Yeah. Just peachy. You?"

"Not really." he replied as we began walking. Let us cue the awkward silence here. I'm sure you all know how socially awkward I could be. But one of the main reasons why I'm acting this way is because I can't get what Mr. Brunner said out of my head.

"Um, I'm so sorry for blowing you off. I just needed time to think about the '_incident_.'" I started, using air quotes as I looked on the floor. I could almost feel him smiling.

"It's okay, I understand." he insisted and I smiled. "Oh, hey, I gotta go pack."

"Wait," I stopped him just as he was about to run. I hugged him and surprisingly, he hugged back. "I'm so sorry, again." I slowly pulled back and smiled at him, scratching the back of my head. "And I'm sorry about the hug. What can I say? I'm a hugger."

"Oh, uh, it's okay." He stammered, walking backwards. "See you around." Just as he turned around, he slammed into one of the lockers, causing him to tumble down. I laughed slightly as I walked towards him and held my hand out. He gladly took it and stood up.

"Sorry about that…"

"It's okay." I insisted, laughing slightly. "Well, bye." And with that, I walked away. Leaving Percy, who was rubbing his forehead, mumbling, "Ow" every once and awhile.

_Oh Percy._

"I saw what Mr. Brunner did there." Anna announces, leaning against the wall with her arms crossed, while I was shoved my clothes and other stuff in my suitcase.

"Yeah, but the thing is; I don't really care." I replied as I shoved a shirt into my suitcase.

"Let's not talk about this anymore. What I'm trying to say is; I'll miss you so much, H. Where will I ever find another best friend like you?" she muttered as she came over to me and hugged me – almost squeezing me to death, if you ask me. I chuckled slightly and hugged her back. "Why did the headmaster expel you, anyway? I mean, you just defended your _future husband_ – I mean Percy." she asked, but she just had to tease me. I could feel her grin teasingly. I just rolled my eyes and smacked the back of her head, causing her to wince.

"Promise me you'll send me a letter?" I asked her, pulling away from her hug. I know there are various of social networks out there, but in my house, I can't actually use gadgets, much less touch them. I live in a big house, but you can't really change the fact that my dad is strict when it comes to gadgets. The only gadget I can use are the ones used to play video games, not the one where you can actually communicate. I mostly read (even if it takes me weeks or months). I don't really go outside because I'm anti-social. That's it.

"I promise."

"Well, I have to go. Don't want to miss the bus, you know." I smiled at her.

"I can walk you to the terminal, _you know._" she mocked and walked to my side.

"As much as I would love for you to do that, no thank you. It would be harder for me to say goodbye. Seriously, I might miss my bus because I won't be able to let you go if you give me another goodbye hug," I joked. "Plus, you've got to pack." I added, gesturing her messy bed full of clothes and accessories. Sure, she's a bookworm and smart too, but that doesn't mean she's not into fashion. She's not much of an organizer though.

I gave her one last hug. What a short goodbye... But it was one of the saddest goodbyes I have ever had in my entire existence.

I started walking out my dorm. I glanced back at her and waved. She smiled and waved back. I sighed and continued to walk to Greyhound bus terminal.

I entered the bus. The bus was full. Seriously, it's full. There were like, 3 seats left. One next to a snoring guy, um- and he fell on the vacant chair. There's another one next to an old lad- she put her cat down on the chair and fell asleep. Seriously? Wow, what a great day this has been.

"Hey, kid! I'm about to drive, please sit down, _immediately_." the driver said, rather harshly, if I may say so myself. I groaned.

"Not really my fault most of your passengers are selfish and have no manners whatsoever," I defended, rolling my eyes as I mumbled, "Including you."

"What did you say?"

"Oh nothing, nothing." I lied as I shook my head. The good side is, there's another seat available. Next to a guy with jet black hair that looks a lot like Percy's hair. Wait, Percy?

"Whatever," he said with his raspy voice. "Kid, just sit down already."

Rolling my eyes, I started walking down the aisle, coming to an abrupt stop as I saw Percy. Boy, was I right.

"Mind if I sit down?" I asked politely, cocking an eyebrow.

"Not at all." Percy replied, not looking up. He was procrastinating and focusing his attention to the seat in front of him. Almost like he was thinking of something deeply.

"Okay then..." I muttered as I awkwardly sat down. "Thanks."

Minutes have passed and the awkward silence developed in the atmosphere. I looked at my purple watch. And heck, not even a minute has passed. This awkward atmosphere is... _awkward_. So _awkward_, I'm getting uncomfortable. _Awkward_. Even more awkward, he hasn't noticed me, yet. _Awkward_. I'm a socially awkward person, and being the awkward person I am, I was getting uncomfortable with the awkward silence. Well, this is awkward.

"Looking for Kindly Ones?" Percy suddenly blurted out of the blue, but he wasn't talking to me, he was talking to Grover. Well, asking, but that's beside the point. I looked at the both of them, quirking an eyebrow. _Kindly Ones? _

Grover nearly jumped out of his seat, the blood draining out of his face. "Wha– what do you mean?"

Percy confessed about eavesdropping on his conversation with Mr. Brunner the night before the exam. I pursed my lips. Huh, that's weird. Why would a student have a conversation with a teacher in the middle of the night?

I observed Grover's expression. His right eye twitched. Eye twitching; if a person's eye twitched or the person cringed, etc., you'll figure out whether the person is lying or not. I'm so glad my friend when I was in 4th grade taught me this. Unfortunately, she was in the roller coaster accident – but this information is irrelevant at the moment

"How much did you hear?" Grover asked Percy, still shocked.

"Oh... not much," Percy trailed off then asked a question. "What's the summer solstice deadline?"

Grover winced. "Look, Percy... I was just worried about you and Heather, see? Hallucinating about demon math teachers..."

"Excuse me?" I suddenly interrupted. Grover looked at me and jumped, the blood draining out of his face once more. Percy looked at me in surprise, but the corners of his mouth formed into a small smile; like he was greeting me.

"Oh, H–hey, Heather." Grover stuttered, fidgeting with his fingers.

"Now where were we?" Percy reminded him, focusing his attention back to Grover, who just heaved a sigh and looked at his hands.

"And I was telling Mr. Brunner that maybe you were over-stressed or something, because there was no such person as Mrs. Dodds, and..."

"Grover, you're a really, really bad liar." Percy stated. I hummed in agreement as his ears turned pink. He grabbed something from his pocket. It was a grubby business card.

"Just take this okay? In case you need me this summer," he said, handing Percy a grubby business card. "You too, Heather." He handed me one. It was written in a fancy font. It took me about 2 minutes to decipher it. It's pretty weird that he's giving me a business card.

**Grover Underwood**

Keeper

Half-Blood Hill

Long Island New York

(800) 009-0009

"Hey, what's Half-Blood –?"

"Don't say it aloud, Heather!" he yelped, flinging his arms in the air; which, by the way, almost hit Percy's face. "That's my, um... summer address." Percy's expression immediately dropped.

"Okay," Percy replied glumly, although I could sense a hint of jealousy in his voice. "So, like, if I want to come visit your mansion."

He nodded. "Or... or if you need me."

"Why would I need you?" Percy asked, but it came out the wrong way, causing Grover to blush and look down.

"Excuse me." I stood up and started to make my way through the aisle.

"Where are you going?" Percy questioned, his attention flickering on me.

"Restroom." And with that said – I left. Their argument was audible, in my opinion. But I guess that didn't matter.

Just as I was about to hold the doorknob of the restroom, there was a huge grinding noise under our feet. Black smoke poured from the dashboard and the whole bus filled with a smell like rotten eggs. I gagged as I quickly fished out a handkerchief from my pocket and covered my nose with it.

After a few minutes, the driver announced that we'd all have to get off. No duh, Sherlock. Seriously, that driver's rude. I still can't get over the fact that he was rude to me a while ago.

I exited the bus. Once I got off the bus, I went to where Percy and Grover were, since standing with people I don't really know makes me feel... well... uncomfortable. Like I said, I am a very socially awkward person.

On our side of the highway, there was nothing but maple trees and lots of litters. On the other side, across four lanes of asphalt shimmering and shining with afternoon heat, was an old-fashioned fruit stand. Let me re-phrase that, an old-fashioned fruit stand with creepy ladies, knitting big socks. Call me names and all, but I think old ladies knitting really, really big socks are creepy if you ask me. The lady on the right knitted one of them. The lady on the left knitted the other. The lady in the middle held a big an enormous basket of electric-blue yarn.

They looked so pale wrinkled like fruit leather, silver hair tied back in white bandannas, bony arms sticking out of bleached cotton dresses. Call me crazy, but it's like their looking at our direction. I looked at Percy and met eyes with him. I shot him a questioning look but he just shrugged. The usual. He looked at Grover, which made me look at him too. He was pale and his nose was twitching. I didn't know if he was sniffing or not. Or is he just had a cold.

"Grover?" Percy called. "Hey, man –"

"Tell me they _aren't_ looking at you. They are, aren't they?"

"Yeah. Weird, huh? You think those big socks would fit me?" Percy joked, causing me to chuckle.

"Not funny, Percy. Not funny at all." Grover said sternly with a serious look on his face. The old lady in the middle took out a huge scissors– gold and silver, long-bladed. It was pretty creepy. And I'm pretty sure it's a custom one because I've never seen that kind of scissors before. The only big scissors I've ever encountered was the one you use for gardening. "We're getting on the bus," Grover commanded, turning his attention back to us. "Come on."

"What? It's a thousand degrees in there." Percy interjected, cocking an eyebrow.

"Come on!" Percy and I stayed back. What was he worried about? I looked at Percy but he was looking at the old ladies, who were still acting as creepy as ever. They were looking at Percy, then at me, and then at Percy. The middle one cut the yarn, and I swear I could hear that _snip_ across four lanes of traffic. I told you old ladies were creepy. Judge me, but I never liked old ladies who knit big socks – and considering this is my first time seeing those kind of old people, call me a girl who doesn't believe in love at first sight, but believes in hate at first sight.

I just stared at them for another moment, until the bus's engine roared back to life. Everyone cheered and hollered. But I couldn't really care less.

"Darn right!" the driver yelled as he slapped the bus with his hat. "Everybody back on board!" Everyone went in the bus, including Percy and I. The weird thing is, I felt like I was going to have a fever. I sat down on my original seat, and leaned on the chair. I needed to relax.

"Grover?" Percy called, looking at Grover. Although, Percy looked pale like me. Grover was just biting his fingernails nervously.

"Yeah?"

"What are you not telling us?"

"Percy, Heather, what did you see back at the fruit stand?" I looked at him and shot him a confused look.

"You mean the old ladies? What is it about them, man? They're not like... _Mrs. Dodds_ are they?" I asked, my brown orbs burning on his forehead.

"Just tell me what you saw." he urged nervously, rubbing his temples.

"The middle one took out her scissors, and cut the yarn."

He closed his eyes and made a gesture with his fingers that might have been crossing himself, but it wasn't. It was something... older. Something he made himself, maybe?

"You guys saw her snip the cord?" He asked but it was more of a statement.

"Yeah. The weird thing is I heard it." I replied as Percy just nodded and hummed in agreement.

"This is not happening," Grover mumbled. He started chewing his thumb. "I don't want this to happen like the last time."

"What last time?" Percy asked before I opened my mouth.

"Always sixth grade, they never get past sixth."

"You're scaring me, Grover." I admitted, furrowing my eyebrows.

"Percy, Heather, let me walk you home from the bus station. Promise me."

"No thanks. My step-sister's picking me up." I told him. My step-sister, Belle. She's 18. She may look like a snobby person but she's pretty nice once you get to know her. Even though I have a step-sister, she only visits us three times a week, because she's busy with her career. But ever since dad told me he would 'spend time' with me, my sister said that too. It was sweet and fishy at the same time. _Swishy_.

Belle's mom divorced my dad when she [Belle] was 10 months, if you already forgot, because they had one simple disagreement. Dad and our loyal helper, Marylin – who was from Italy (she bakes marvelous pizza and makes amazing pasta) had been taking of her ever since. Even me, when I was born.

"Is this like a superstition or something?" Percy asked but Grover ignored him. "Grover– that snipping of the yarn. Does that mean somebody is going to die?" Grover, once again, didn't answer.

He looked at the both of us mournfully, like he was already picking the kind of flowers I'd like best on my coffin. I didn't like the way he looked at us. Not at all.


	3. Chapter 3: Big Bull Ain't Friendly

"Hey, Heaths! Katy! Lil sissy! Brunetty!" my step-sister, Belle, called as we got out of the car. I rolled my eyes as I started walking ahead of her. "So, who was that boy you were walking with?"

"A friend..." I answered, looking at her weirdly. We didn't really have a conversation in the car; mainly because I was asleep. Can you blame me? It's been a very rough day; you know, the whole Mr. Brunner and Grover acting like I was gonna die. Although, I did hear dad and Belle talking, but it was muffled. Something about a camp, I think? "Why?" I asked as I drank from the water bottle my dad bought for me.

"Well, I saw a something-something a while ago. You and that boy, what's-his-name, were walking together."she responded, wiggling her eyebrows as if she was hinting something, but I just simply quirked an eyebrow, still drinking my water. "Why didn't you tell me you had a boyfriend? I would have –" she started to interrogate me, but got cut off by me, widening my eyes and spitting the water inside my mouth. Unfortunately for her, the water landed on her face. If I'm ever with a boy, she'll conclude that the boy is my boyfriend. It's annoying, really. And I don't really see me and Percy dating or even have romantic feelings for each other in the future. (**A/N: ASDFGHJKLHAMSHDHKSHSKSHSKSHK A)**

"The boy you're talking about; his name is Percy, and first of all, he is not my 'boyfriend,' _Bellarina_." I defended, using air quotes. She glared at me while I smirked. Why, you ask? I called her by her real name. She hates it with a burning passion. Whenever I ask dad why her real name is 'Bellarina,' he says _"Her mother was a ballerina back then. I guess she wanted Belle to be named after what she loves doing; in a unique way."_But I also think she was still mad about me spitting on her. The glaring stopped after a whole five seconds, which surprised me.

"Oh come on! That Percy lad is cute, you know. You two will _definitely_look good together!" she teased, smirking at me teasingly, but I just rolled my eyes.

"I'm twelve, _Bellarina_," I stated, rolling my eyes as I continued walking to the house. "And stop being a pedophile. He's twelve years old too; and you're like, twenty or something." She faked gasped, bringing her hand to her mouth.

"I'm _eighteen_. I will not tolerate to some kid who calls me pedophile." I flinched when she called me a kid. I don't hate it. I just dislike it – so much. I hated being called a kid. It's like if you're a kid, people will treat you like you're just... I don't know... a kid! And I absolutely despise it when people call me that. If someone says kid again, I might smack that person where it hurts so bad. She smirked at me mockingly, probably thinking '_PLEASE APPLY COLD WATER TO THE BURNT AREA.' _No, I will not tolerate to that.

"You did _not_just go there."

"Oops, I just did." she taunted, batting her eyelashes sweetly and smiling sarcastically. She's nice and all, but that doesn't mean we don't bicker or quarrel with each other. Watch and learn.

"Why do you always—"

"You're always nag this nag tha—"

"I don't nag, you twa—"

"Oh no you didn't! Why—"

"Oh shut it, _Bellari_—"

"Oh stop it, _ki_—"

"GIRLS! HEATHER! BELLE!" Dad butted in. I forgot dad was with us all along. Oh, right. He was going to be a 'better father,' and spend time with me us. With _me._

"She started it!" Belle and I said unison while pointing our index finger at each other. My dad just shook his head and sighed. He looked up at us with a smile on his face, like he's used to this and missed it so much.

"Bels, why are you all wet?" Dad asked, looking at her up and down, quirking an eyebrow in the process.

"Ask. Her." she said through her teeth. Dad looked at me questioningly, both of his eyebrows quirking upward.

I smiled in a cute way, while swaying. "She said it was hot, daddy. So I did her a favour by showering her with water." I batted my eyelashes cutefully – if that's even a word. "Don't worry; it's mineral."

He laughed, shaking his head. "Welcome home, you two." He said as he bent down and poked both of our noses. He's 6'0, Belle's 5'4 (So short for an eighteen year old, but don't tell her that, or else she might kill me in my sleep.) while I – being the shortest one in the family – am 5'2. I will grow as time comes, I promise you that.

"Dad, I told you already. I don't like it when you poke my nose." Belle reminded, rubbing her nose with her right hand, but he just laughed. She gave him a look – which he quickly noticed and faked a cough.

"Let's go inside. I've already set everything up. Movie's picked out already, popcorn not yet popped, beverages are still in the refrigerator and sleeping bags – name it, it's there." Dad grinned as he ruffled my hair. "Now, Belle, go take a shower, or you'll get sick." Dad ushered, patting Belle's back as we went inside the house.

Maybe he _was_trying to be a 'better father' and try to spend time with us. Marylin said that he cancelled a lot of meetings just to do this, which was very flattering if you ask me.

Although, he's been acting pretty weird lately. Whenever he calls me in school – which is like two or three times a month – he's rushing everything, like he's worried. The shortest conversation we had was like, 39 seconds. The longest? 1 minute and 4 seconds. Now, he's acting like a real dad. I'm not complaining, I'm happy that he's doing this and trying, but I'm curious about this. It's like he's hiding something...

Whatever it is...

I'm sure I'll find out. Because you can't keep a secret from me. If you do, I'll stalk you until I get what I want.

And that's what I'm gonna do.

"So, what movie are we going to watch, our dearest daddy?" I questioned, now dressed up in my pajamas.

"Mean Girls!" He said with jazz hands. Belle squealed. Unfortunately, she was beside me, meaning, my ear might be damaged. Her squeal is louder than anything; you will definitely become deaf if she was standing right next to you while squealing. I think I'll be dead if I hear it again; I had been lucky. I don't blame her though; both of us were a fan of Mean Girls. I love Regina George like I love McDonald's french fries. It lasts _forever_. Regina may be a – insert word here that rhymes with witch – but the character was played so well. Rachel McAdams will forever be my favourite actress.

"Dad, I love you, I love you, I love you!" Belle squealed in delight, and I can't help but laugh. Her ears turned pink. She quickly regained herself and faked coughed and tried to recover her fangirl moment by saying, "Uh, nice movie, my lovely father." Way to act casual, big sister. I know, I know, it should be 'step-sister' but I don't care. Blood or not, she's still my sister.

"Same old Belle." Dad shook his head and laughed. I joined in too. You should have seen her face. Priceless, I tell you. She glared at us and crossed her arms, which caused us to laugh more.

"Just play it already." she huffed and looked away from us. It was hard not to laugh and laugh... and laugh. I remember when I laughed so hard, milk came out of my nose. I'm not embarrassed one bit... Okay, a little bit, but that doesn't matter.

"Okay, okay. Let's stop," But that made us laugh more. "Just kidding, honey. Belle, please pop the popcorn."

"Yes!" she cheered. My eyes went wide.

"What's wrong, Heaths?" Dad questioned.

"But she'll eat all of the popcorn before the movie even starts!" I exclaimed. It was true. One time when I was in second grade – during summer – we went to the theatres downtown, and before the movie even started, she ate all the popcorn. We had to go outside and buy more. _Three. Times._

"Belle, is that true?" Dad looked at me, then her, then me, then her, then me, then her. Basically, he repeated it for about 12 times.

"...Yes." Belle answered hesitantly. Dad nodded

"Heaths, you go make the popco—"

"YES!" I stood up and ran for my life, afraid that Belle might haunt me so she can kill me.

The movie ended 10 minutes ago. As of now, we were sitting in the middle of a bonfire outside our house, the backyard.

"Ha! Regina got run over by a bus!"

"So? Cady pushed her. DUH!" I argued, sticking my tongue out. Belle rolled her eyes while I rolled mine too.

"Girls," Dad warned before she could argue. "We're supposed to have fun, not bicker every minute."

"Sorry, dad." Belle and I apologized in unison. Oh, I am totally not surprised. This happens every time.

"I've been kind of stressed out lately. With you-know-what and all." Belle reasoned as Dad nodded like he understood.

I rolled my stick so the marshmallow wouldn't burn. He was right. We need to act like a family. Something we hadn't done in years. I never really knew what my dad's characteristics were until now. I forgot what he was really like.

He was always busy – being a businessman and all. I thought he was serious, has no sense of humour – whatsoever. But now, he's a joker, fun, loving and generous. I don't even know how he and mom got together. It was weird; knowing that my dad's kind of like a class clown while my mom was the 'magician' (as described by my very own father) which always got me clueless. My dad said I looked a lot like her.

"What do you mean? What's 'you-know-what?'" my question startled them – like what they said was a super confidential topic.

"Never mi –" Belle was about to dismiss but got cut off.

"Micheal! Micheal! MICHEAL!" Someone with a man-ish voice yelled. I turned to the direction where the voice came from.

I didn't hear any footsteps – it sounded more like... hooves? As in animal hooves. Why will there be an animal roaming around New York? Unless a stupid keeper/veterinarian/driver- who-drives-a-truck-full-of-zoo-animals 'accidentally' set the animal free. But a talking one? That's impossible.

"CODE RED! CODE RED! CODE RED!" The man – Wait, it's not a man. Dad quickly stood up – like he knew what it meant.

"GROVER?! What are you doing here?! And why are your legs..." I trailed off – not knowing what to say. His legs were furry and looked like a goat's legs. And I'm guessing he doesn't have any pants on, which was really awkward for me. "AND WHY ARE YOU NOT WEARING ANY PANTS?!"

"You mean... Please tell me it's kidding, dad?" Belle paled, ignoring my outburst.

"Hey! I'm a '_he_.'" Grover defended, glaring at Belle. I would've laughed but this situation looked kind of serious.

"There's no time for this! Belle, you guard the house." Dad looked at me with a worried expression written all over his face. "Heather, let's go."

"Go where?" I interrogated, but they just made their way to the garage – where my dad's red Lamborghini is. I cautiously followed them. This is beyond weird. Am I dreaming? Please tell me I'm dreaming. Don't pinch me. "Where are we going?" I curiously asked but he just ignored me. "Dad, where are we going?!"

"Just trust me and get in the car." Dad responded sternly. Something in my head told me to just shut up and follow – which I did.

The car ride was silent – well, except for Grover, who was biting his nails and except for my constant whining, questions and complains.

It irked me that I didn't know anything that was happening. I'm a kind of person who needs to know everything that's happening and right now, I really, really, really need to know what's happening or I'll scream in annoyance.

"We have to pick-up someone first before we go to camp!" Grover frantically announced while biting his nails. This intrigued me; so I turned to Grover, who was sitting on the passenger's seat.

"What camp?" And of course, my question was ignored. "Who and where is that 'someone'?"

"Someone important." Grover responded, not looking at me but is still biting his nails.

Thank goodness someone finally answered me. I layed my head on the window. I was pretty sleepy. I was supposed to go to bed a while ago, but of course – you know what happened. And before I knew it, I already fell asleep.

**{{Percy's P.O.V}}**

"No!" I yelped, sitting up from my bed while panting.

Outside, it was really storming; the kind of storm that cracks trees and blows down houses. There was no horse or eagle on the beach, just lighting making false daylight, and twenty-foot waves pounding the dunes like artillery. Then, there was a sudden thunderclap that made me flinch.

"Hurricane." My mom suddenly blurted out of the blue with wide eyes.

I knew that was crazy. Long Island never have hurricanes this early in the summer, but the ocean seemed to have forgotten. Over the roar of the wind, I heard a distant bellow, an angry, tortured sound that made my hair stand on the end.

Then, a much closer noise – like mallets in the sand. A desperate voice, pounding on our cabin door, followed by another man screaming, "We have to hurry!"

Mom quickly sprang out of the bed in her nightgown and threw open the lock. There stood Grover, who was framed in the doorway against a backdrop of pouring rain. But he didn't... wasn't exactly Grover. And next to him was a man who had dirty-blond hair in his thirties, carrying a girl with brown hair.

"Searching all night," Grover gasped, panting like he just ran in a marathon. "What were you thinking?"

Mom looked at me in terror – not scared of Grover, but why he came.

"Percy," mom shouted, because if she didn't, I wouldn't have heard it. "What happened at school? What didn't you tell me?" I froze, looking at Grover. I couldn't understand what I was seeing.

"_O Zeu kai alloi theoi!_" he yelled. "It was right behind me! Didn't you tell her?"

I was too shocked to register that he had just cursed in Ancient Greek and understood it perfectly. I was too shocked to wonder how Grover knew where we were and came here with a man – who's carrying a girl – in the middle of the night. Too shocked that Grover didn't have any pants on. And his legs... his legs... HIS LEGS?!

My mom looked at me sternly and talked in a tone she had never used before. "Percy, tell me now!"

I stammered something about the old ladies at the fruit stand, and Mrs. Dodds. After I finished she just stared at me, her face was deathly pale in the flashes of lightning. She hurriedly grabbed her purse, tossed me my rain jacket.

"Wait, Grover, who's this?" my mom asked while pointing at the guy who was carrying a girl who looked so familiar.

"This is Mr. McCarter. Heather, his daughter, was there when Mrs. Dodds attacked and was with us when we saw The Fates." Grover explained. Heather? As in the Heather McCarter I know?

"Is she okay?!" I asked while panicking. My mom looked at me, as if asking me who Heather is.

"She is. She's just sleeping. But please, we need a ride to camp because Mr. McCarter's car..." Grover pointed to the car that was upside down.

Mom nodded. "Get in my car. The three of you. Go!"

Grover ran for the Camaro – but he wasn't exactly running. He was trotting, shaking his shaggy hindquarters, and suddenly his story about muscular disorder made sense to me. I understood how he can run so fact and still limp when he walked. Because he didn't have any feet. He had cloven hooves.

We tore through the night along the dark country roads. Wind slammed against the Camaro. Ran lashed the wind-shield. I didn't know how my mom could see anything, but she kept her foot on the gas.

Every time there was a flash of lighting, I looked at Grover, who was sitting next to me at the backseat and I wondered if I had gone insane, or if he was wearing some kind of shag-carpet pants or he'll look at me and say, "_Surprise! Happy Halloween_!"; But no, it's summer and the smell was one I remembered from kindergarten field trips to the petting zoo – lanolin, like from wool. The smell of a wet barnyard animal.

"So you, my mom and Heather's –" I pointed at Heather, who was sleeping like a baby right next to me."Dad, know each other?"

Grover's eyes flitted to the rear-view mirror, but there were no cars behind us.

"Not exactly. I mean, the three of us never met in person – well, I've met Heather's dad but that's it. But your mom knew I was watching you."

"Watching me?"

"Keeping tabs on you. Making sure you were okay. But I wasn't faking being your friend." He added the last part hastily. "I am your friend."

"Um... what are you, exactly?"

"That doesn't matter right now."

"It doesn't matter? From waist down, my best friend is a donkey –"

Grover let out a sharp, throaty, "Blaa-ha-ha!" I had heard him make that sound before, but I had always assumed that it was just a nervous laugh. Now I realized it was an irritated bleat. "Goat!" he corrected.

"What?"

"I'm a goat from the waist down."

"You just said it didn't matter."

"Blaa-ha-ha! There are satyrs who would trample you underhoof for such an insult!"

"Whoa, wait. Satyrs. You mean like... Mr. Brunner's myths?"

"Were those old ladies at the fruit stand a myth, Percy? Was Mrs. Dodds a myth?"

"So you admit there was a Mrs. Dodds!"

"Of course."

"Then why –"

"The less you know, the fewer monsters you attract." Grover explained, like that should be perfectly obvious. "We put Mist over the humans' eyes. We hoped you and Heather would think the Kindly One was a hallucination. But it was no good. You guys started to realize who you are."

"Who I–wait a minute, what do you mean?"

The weird bellowing noise rose up again somewhere behind us, closer than before. Whatever was chasing us was still on our trail. And I had a feeling eit wasn't a good thing.

"Percy, there's too much to explain and not enough time. We have to get you and Heather to safety."

"Safety from what? Who's after me? Who's after us?"

"Oh, nobody much," Grover replied sarcastically, obviously still miffed about the donkey comment. "Just the Lord of the Dead and a few of his blood-thirstiest minions."

"Grover!" Mr. McCarter scolded.

"Sorry, Mr. McCarter. Could you drive faster, Mrs. Jackson, please?" Grover plead nervously.

I tried to wrap my mind around what was happening but I just couldn't do it. I knew this wasn't a dream. I had no imagination, whatsoever. I could never dream up something this weird. My mom made a hard left. We served onto a narrower road, racing past darkened farmhouses and wooded hills and 'PICK YOUR OWN STRAWBERRIES' signs on white picket fences.

"Where are we going?" I asked, looking around.

"The summer camp I told you about." my mother's voice was tight; she was trying for my sake not to be scared. "The place your father wanted to send you."

"The place you didn't want me to go." I reminded.

"Please, dear," my mother begged. "This is hard enough. Try to understand. You're in danger."

"Because some old ladies cut a yarn." I spat, rolling my eyes.

"Percy, please listen to your mother." Heather's dad plead.

"Those weren't just old ladies," Grover butted in. "Those were The Fates. Do you know what it means – the fact that they appeared in front of you and Heather? They only do that when you're about to... when someone's about to die."

"Whoa, you said 'you'."

"No I didn't. I said 'someone'."

"You meant 'you', as in me."

"I meant 'you,' like 'someone'. Not you, you. But technically I said 'you're' which also means 'someone,' not you're, you're."

"Dude, that didn't make any sense."

"BOYS!" mom shouted as she pulled the wheel hard to the right. I caught a glimpse of a figure she had swerved to avoid. I heard something bump on my right side which made me jump. I looked to my right and sure enough Heather bumped her head on the window.

I expected her to wince or groan or scream or curse but she just stayed still.

"She's a heavy sleeper, you know." I jumped; hitting my head against the roof, causing me to wince. I saw Mr. McCarter – Heather's dad – looking at me from the passenger seat. He chuckled. "Sorry about that. I've heard a lot about you."

I simply nodded and managed to send him a small smile. "Really? She talks about me a lot?"

"Nah. Her step-sister teases her all the time about you and her being together or something." I felt heat come up on my face. I looked at the window to not embarrass myself, and suddenly remembered something. Something I was supposed to ask seconds ago.

"Mom, what was that? The dark fluttering shape I saw, I mean." I asked.

"We're almost there," my mom assured herself, ignoring my question. "Another mile. Please, please, please."

I didn't know where 'there' was, but I found myself leaning forward in the car, anticipating, wanting us to arrive. Outside, nothing but ran and darkness – the kind of empty countryside you get way out of Long Island.

I thought about Mrs. Dodds and the moment she had changed into the thing with pointed teeth and leathery wings. She wasn't human at all. She was only there to kill me and Heather. But what about Mr. Brunner? The pen he threw; and the weird barrier the first time Mrs. Dodds lunged at us.

But before I could ask Grover about that, the hair rose on the back of my neck. There was a blinding flash, a jaw-rattling boom! and our car exploded.

**{{Heather's P.O.V.}}**

I regret falling asleep. I don't really know what I dreamt about. All I remember was, I was somewhere; somewhere where it's pitch dark. And there was a man speaking with a cold and hostile voice – but when I looked around, I was all alone. I don't particularly remember what he said; but I can still hear it inside my head, echoing as if I was in a cave. I don't particularly remember what it said, but —

_BOOM!_

I began to feel weightless, like I was being crushed, fried and hosed down at the same time. The pain felt excruciating. It was the worst feeling I ever felt since I was born or when I broke my arm, but that's another story.

A woman's voice shouted something but it was muffled.

"Heaths! Are you okay?" my dad shouted. I nodded, even though I know that he couldn't see me.

"I'm okay..." A croaked voice spoke. Someone... Wait, it's not just someone. Percy?! I opened my eyes but closed them quickly. My body was aching like crazy. I tried to shake it off. I wasn't dead, thankfully.

I sit up and finally opened my eyes. The roof of the car was opened like an eggshell and rain was pouring in. It was burned. Lighting, maybe? There was a groan which made me jump, hitting my head on the roof. Unfortunately, the roof was hot.

"Grover!"

My reflexes kicked in and slapped the person next to me. He or she winced but I'm guessing it's a 'he' considering that if I had hit a girl, that girl would scream so loud.

"Sorry, whoever you are." I muttered, my eyes still closed.

"Heather, it's Percy." I heard Percy say. I quickly opened my eyes, quickly found him, rubbing his left cheek, mumbling 'ow.'

"Oh my gosh, I'm so sorry!"

"... It's okay."

I looked around. I saw a figure lumbering towards us on the shoulder of the road. It was a dark silhouette of a huge guy, like a football player, I presume. He seemed to be holding a blanket over his head. His top half was bulky and fuzzy. His upraised hands made it look like he had horns.

I'm gonna call it Mr. Fluffyhorns.

"Dad, who's t—"

"Kids, get out of the car." A woman, who looks like Percy, said. Maybe she is Percy's mom. Her voice was deadly serious, which made me shudder. Not because of the voice. Because of the hidden message in it. Something's going to happen. Something bad.

I immediately tried to open my side of the door. It was stuck. I looked at the roof. All of us can get out through the roof; although, that seemed like a bad option. It was sizzling and smoking.

"Climb out the passenger's side!" Percy's mom instructed frantically. "You guys have to run! You see that big tree?"

"I'm sorry, what?" Another flash of lightning and through the smoking hole in the roof, I saw what she meant: A huge, White House Christmas tree-sized pine at the crest of the nearest hill.

"That's the property line," Dad's voice said. "Get over that hill and you'll see a big farmhouse down in the valley. Run and don't look back. Yell for help. Don't stop until you reach the door. Trust us, it's safe there."

"No, you guys are coming too." I immediately said, getting the message that they didn't plan on coming.

"Yes! You guys are coming with us. Help me carry Grover, Heather." Mr. Fluffyhorns kept coming towards us making his grunting, snorting noises. As he got closer, I realized he's not holding a blanket over his head, because his huge, meaty hands were swinging at his sides. Meaning, the bulky fuzzy mass that was too big to be his head... was his head. And he points that looked like horns were real horns.

"He doesn't want us. He wants you both. Besides, we can't cross the property line." Percy's mom explained, looking at Percy with a worried and concern face.

"What about my dad? Can't he cross too?" I squeaked, finally having the courage to speak.

"I can't Heather; unlike you two – three, if you include Grover – we're mortals. We aren't special like the both of you." Dad explained, a sad look on his face. Mrs. Jackson nodded.. "I'm sorry to say this, but I'm afraid you have to go on without us. Now go!"

"But..."

"We don't have time, guys. Go. Please. This is for your own safety." Ms. Jackson mom pleaded.

Percy climbed across Grover and pushed the door open into the rain and said, "We're going together."

"I told you –"

"Mom! I am not leaving you." Percy declared, his voice rising.

"I'm not leaving you too, dad." I added, shaking my head. Percy nodded.

"Heather, help me with Grover." Percy ordered, looking at me sternly. I nodded and turned to Grover who was passed out.

"Food!" Grover groaned. Percy and I scrambled outside, dragging Grover from the car. He was surprisingly light, but if Percy wasn't here, I wouldn't be able to carry him that far – considering I'm very weak at the moment.

Together, we draped Grover's arms over our shoulders and started stumbling uphill through wet waist-high grass.

Percy glanced at the thing behind us, but I didn't dare to look at it. I got my first clear look at the monster a while ago, and I had a feeling it had to do with greek mythology – just like Grover. I can't really get the image out of my head, so I'll describe it for you.

He was at least seven or eight feet tall, his arms and legs are like something you see in muscle competitions – bulging biceps and triceps and a bunch of other 'ceps. It didn't wear any clothes, it looks like it's wearing diapers. I would've laughed, but this really isn't the time to do that. Coarse brown hair started at about his belly button and got thicker as it reached his shoulders.

His neck was a mass of muscle and fur leading up to his enormous head, which had a snout as long as my arm, snotty nostrils with a gleaming brass ring, cruel black eyes, and enormous black-and-white horns with points you just couldn't get from an electric sharpener. Sharper than the scissors the old ladies used, that's for sure.

I recognized the monster minutes ago. But it can't be true. Although, there is a satyr here, so I really didn't have much of a choice rather than believe that there was an actual minotaur right behind us.

"That's –" Percy was about to say, but got cut off by Mrs. Jackson.

"Pasiphae's son," She answered right behind us.. "I wish I had known how badly they want to kill you."

"But he's the Min—"

"Don't say its name," dad warned. "Names have power."

The pine tree was still way too far – a hundred yards uphill at least. I finally had the courage to glance back.

The Minotaur hunched over the car, looking in the windows—or not looking, exactly. More like snuffling, nuzzling. I wasn't sure why he bothered, since we were only about fifty feet away. I don't really care if its name is 'tabooed,' if you fear the name, they'll gain more power anyway. Yes, this is what Harry Potter did to me.

"Food?" Grover moaned, tossing and turning.

"Shhh," Percy hushed, bringing his hand up to his face. "Mom, what's he doing? Doesn't he see us?"

"His sight and hearing are terrible," Mrs. Jackson responded, looking the fur ball that was heading towards us. "He goes by smell. But he'll figure out where we are soon enough."

As if on cue, the monster roared in rage. He picked up the car by the torn and burned roof, the chassis creaking and groaning. He raised the car over his head and threw it down the wet and damp road. It slammed into the wet asphalt and skidded in a shower of  
sparks for about half a mile before coming to a stop. The gas tank exploded.

_I'm gonna die young_... I thought frantically with wide eyes, mumbling inaudible foul invective words.

"Percy, Heather," my dad called, causing my attention to flicker on him. "When he sees us, he'll charge. Wait until the last second, then jump out of the way – directly sideways. He can't change directions very well once he's charging. Do you understand?"

"How do you two know all about this?" I interrogated, looking at Mrs. Jackson and my dad sternly.

"I've been worried about an attack for a long time. That's why I wanted to spend time with you this summer. After a week, I was supposed to bring you to the camp I told you about, but I didn't expect this tragedy." dad answered, looking down at his feet.

"Me too. I should have expected this. I was selfish, keeping you near me, Percy." Mrs. Jackson added, shaking her head.

"Keeping me near you? But –"

Another bellow of roar of rage and anger, and the monster started tromping uphill.

He had smelled us already.

The pine tree was only a few more meters, but the hill was getting steeper and slicker, I might slip because of the clumsy person I am, and also because Grover wasn't getting any lighter.

The Mr. Fluffyhorns closed in.

"Percy, Heather, go!" Mrs. Jackson ordered. "Separate from us! Remember what I said."

I didn't want to split up, but I had the feeling she was right – it was our only  
chance. I sprinted to the left, turned, and saw the creature looking down at us. I whimpered; I felt like an ant.

His black eyes glowed with hate. He reeked like a dead mouse that had been decaying for years.

He lowered his head and charged, those razor-sharp horns aimed straight at my chest.

The violent butterflies in my stomach made me want to bolt, but that wouldn't work. I could never outrun this thing, nonetheless run in my state. I was too busy staring at the monster's eyes, I didn't even notice Percy jumping to the side, yanking me.

Mr. Fluffyhorns stormed past like a freight train, then roared in frustration and turned, but not toward me us. Something in the pit of my stomach got pulled like a guy who's riding a bull but got thrown off. It turned to my and Percy's parent, making me want to yell and be the bait, but Percy yanked me once more.

We finally reached the crest of the hill. Down the other side I could see a valley, just as Mrs. Jackson had said, and the lights of a farmhouse glowing yellow through the hard rain. But it looked like it was half a mile away. We'll never make it in time, that's for sure.

Mr. Fluffyhorns grunted, pawing the ground. He kept eyeing my dad and Percy's mom, who were now retreating slowly downhill, back toward the road, trying to be the bait so the monster would keep away from Grover.

"Run!" dad yelled. "We can't go any farther. Run!"

But I was frozen in fear, as the monster charged at them. Mrs. Jackson tried to sidestep and dad tried to jump out of the way, but the monster learned his lesson. Its right hand shot out and grabbed Mrs. Jackson by the neck as she tried to get away. He lifted her as she struggled, kicking and pummeling the air.

"Mom!"

The monster held up its left hand and grabbed my father by the neck. I wanted to scream so badly, but I can't. I was frozen. Dad was squirming, struggling to breathe.

Dad caught my eyes, managed to choke out one last word: "Go!"

Then, with an angry roar, the monster closed his fists around Mrs. Jackson and my dad's neck, and they dissolved before my eyes, melting into light, a shimmering golden form, as if she were a holographic projection.

"No!" I managed to yell. Anger and sadness replaced the fear. I felt a surge of strength in me. Adrenaline rush.

The furry and smelly creature a bore down on Grover, who was laying helpless on the grass. The monster hunched over, snuffling Grover, as if he was about to lift him up and make him dissolve into the gold dust too.

I wouldn't allow that. I _couldn't_allow that.

"Hey!" Percy screamed, waving his jacket, running to one side of the monster. I followed his lead.

"Hey, stupid smelly ground beef!"

"Roooaaaarrrrr!" The monster turned towards us, shaking his meaty fists like a drunken gorilla.

Percy put his back on the big pine tree and waved his red jacket in front of the monster, thinking we can jump out of the way at the last moment so it will run into the tree. Percy motioned me to join on his side. The only thing I was wearing now is a baggy t-shirt and pyjamas that had banana prints, which was now wet much to my dismay. I obeyed instantly.

But it didn't happen like that he thought it would.

The monster charged too fast for my liking; but it was as if time slowed down.

My legs felt like jelly. I couldn't jump sideways, so I leaped straight up, kicking off from the creature's head, jumping on its icky shoulder. Percy jumped on the other side too.

Not a second later, the monster's head slammed into the tree and the impact nearly knocked my teeth out. The monster staggered around, trying to shake the both of us, but I locked my arms around his horns to keep from being thrown down the muddy ground. Thunder and lightning were still going strong. The fact that it was raining made the monster smell worse. The smell of rotten meat and dead mouse burned my nostrils, causing me to scrunch my nose in disgust.

The monster shook itself around and bucked like a rodeo bull. I rode a rodeo bull once, and trust me, it hurt if you fell down.

"Food!" I heard Grover moan.

The specie wheeled toward him, pawed the ground again, and got ready to charge. Rage filled me. He is _not _gonna harm someone again this time. I got both hands around one horn and I pulled backward with all my might. The monster tensed, gave  
a surprised grunt, then – _snap!_

The creature screamed in agony and flung me through the air. I landed flat on my back in the grass.

My head smacked against a the pine tree. When I sat up, my vision was blurry, but I had a horn in my hands, ragged bones weapon the size of a knife. The monster lunged at us again, just like how Mrs. Dodds did at the museum.

Without thinking, I rolled to one side and came up kneeling. As the monster sprinted past, I drove the broken horn straight into its side, right up under its rib cage.

The monster roared in agony. He flailed around; clawing at his chest, then began to disintegrate just like how Mrs. Dodds did. The smell of sulfur was present, with a hint of decaying mouse.

The monster was gone.

The rain had stopped. The storm still rumbled, but only in the distance. I smelled like livestock and my knees were shaking.

And in that moment, I blacked out.

The last thing I remember is collapsing on a wooden porch, looking up at a ceiling fan circling above me, moths flying around a yellow light, and the stern faces of a familiar-looking bearded man and a blond haired girl.

They both looked down at me, and the girl said, "They're the one. They must be."

"Silence, Annabeth," the man hushed. "Both of them are still conscious. Bring them inside.

**Yeah, suckish. I'm so sorry about that. I might adjust it if I suddenly get an idea. Favorite? Review? Follow? I'll love you forever! ;)**


End file.
